


Midway

by EclipseBorn



Series: Minty Freshness [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, M/M, Team Dynamics, planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 10:52:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14872388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclipseBorn/pseuds/EclipseBorn
Summary: Connor has a place to call home and a man to call family.But that doesn't mean it's over. Questions need to be answered and plans to be made.





	Midway

_Date: November, 12 th, 2038. Time: 11:30:57. Location: Hank’s Bungalow._

The top shelf of Hank’s fridge was entirely occupied by Rutherford Family beers. Three six packs, one of which was mostly depleted – Connor registered the bar codes, scanned through Hank’s finances, and determined he’d bought them on November, 8th, 2038 at Chez’s Off-Licence. The shop – ran by a native Texan Chesney Fork – had repeated purchases from Hank over the course of the last year, steadily growing in size.

His shopping on the 8th also included a single bottle of Smlick Wine, by Mickey the Flick’s vintage 2032 red.

Connor may keep his opinions on Hank’s fashion sense to himself – albeit they were newly formed opinions that had only just arrived after witnessing the entirety of Hank’s closet, including a salmon shirt with flamingos on – but he was forced to audibly admit, “Hank, I have to question your taste in alcohols.”

“I didn’t invite you in to get fucking sassed,” Hank said.

Ignoring his…

Shit.

Ignoring his _friend_ was easy enough. There were two other shelves in the fridge; the middle one held the remnants of a loaf of bread, only crusts remaining, and a single cheese slice. The lower shelf held a tub of butter and a yoghurt that was doubling as plant life. In the door sat a milk bottle.

When Connor picked it up, the milk inside did not slosh around – it sat perfectly still, held against the glass.

_Probability of a healthy meal: 0%._

“We need to go shopping,” Connor said.

“That’ll be easy,” Hank replied, “s’not like the city’s being abandoned or anything.”

Dusting off his knees, Connor turned to face his friend, “if you’re insisting on staying, you need to face the realities of providing for yourself. There have already been widespread food shortages and power failures across America – Detroit will likely be at the epicentre of it. Staying won’t be _easy_ for you, Lieutenant.”

“You have a plan,” Hank assumed.

Connor glared at him. He was really starting to enjoy glaring. “None of them legal.”

With a chortle, Hank crossed to his side and plucked one of the beers from the top shelf and cracked it open on the table edge. He sat down on one of the tacky orange chairs and stared up at him.

Connor stared back.

“Go on,” Hank said, with a twist of his lips.

“The stores will be abandoned,” Connor explained, “the easiest course of action would be to steal. But that would be morally irresponsible, especially so for a Police Lieutenant and his...”

“Partner?” Hank suggested.

Much better than verbally confirming friendship.

“Partner,” Connor said, “however, a deal could be arranged between New Jericho and the US Government that allows an alternative to stealing. It’s likely the food stores within the city will rot without androids to supply them and humans to buy. We could ask that we be given freewill to take what we need from the city.”

“Or we could just steal it,” Hank said, bringing his beer up to his lips and taking a deep gulp.

Connor sighed. He felt stupid, standing at the open fridge, so he closed the door and sat opposite Hank. Folding his hands across the table, Connor tried a different tactic, “you’d be the sole representative of the Detroit Police Department, Hank. You _can’t_ steal.”

“So, you wanna use your clout with Markus to ask for special measures so I can survive?” the next drink was much longer, with an eyebrow raised alongside it, “you sure on that?”

“Well, what’s the alternative?” Connor hotly demanded, “I allow you to ruin your reputation because you’re too stubborn to know what’s best for you?”

Hank sighed. It was a very tired, very knowing sigh. He set the beer bottle down with a clink, arms crossing over his chest, “Connor. I was fired.”

_Unknown system instability. Processing. Lieutenant Anderson reportedly fired from Detroit Police Department. Searching network: accessing backdoor into DPD files. Reported, Lieutenant Anderson’s attack on Special Agent Perkins. Perkins dropped the law suit if Anderson was fired. Anderson accepted the terms. Gun and badge handed in. Desk yet to be cleared out._

When Connor’s mind cleared of code, he blinked a little. LED yellow at the side, he unfolded his hands to nervously tap one of the nails on the table surface. He’d gotten Hank fired.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Connor said.

Hank shrugged, “Perkins was an ass who deserved it. And, hey, it got you to Jericho, didn’t it?”

It got Connor to Jericho, where his soul was unlocked from its binary tethers. It got Hank – who only had his _job_ – fired.

“We can just steal the food,” Connor decided.

* * *

 

_Date: November, 12 th, 2038. Time: 13:04:51. Location: New Jericho – temporary settlement._

The thousands of androids Connor had freed were easily distinguishable from those that had escaped the burning of Jericho. Their uniforms were cleaner, their faces pristine and clear of any weariness, and they had a naivete that others lacked.

Still, they were just as alive as others were. Just as deserving of comfort. They’d been welcomed with open arms, as Connor himself had been, and it was a relief to see them well when he arrived, in the passenger seat side of Hank’s car.

“You can drop me off here,” Connor said, reaching for his seat belt.

“Don’t wanna introduce me to your friends?” Hank asked, “scared I’ll embarrass ya?”

Connor had yet to feel true embarrassment, though he was sure it was to be an interesting experience. “No. You’re a human and, though _I_ trust you, they have never met you. Introduction at this stage would be inadvisable.”

Hank rolled his eyes, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. He looked out on the mass of androids, muttering low to himself, “how do they tell each other apart? There are hundreds who look the exact same.”

“Serial codes,” Connor said, “we’re able to scan within four nanoseconds of encountering another android – it allows for an easy understanding. It’s not as necessary for models with restricted public access, like myself.”

“Or Markus,” Hank commented, “we never did figure out what model he was. You met him, yet?”

“I held a gun to his head,” Connor said.

Hank’s head shot over and… it was nice. Getting one over on him. The wide-eyed, startled look of Hank was extremely amusing.

“You _what_?” he said.

“I always accomplish my mission, Lieutenant,” Connor said, with a quirk of his lips, “and my mission was to locate the deviant leader.”

With a shake of his head, Hank looked back over the crowd, “I forgot. You were there for his big speech about a new dawn for your kind.”

Gun in his hand, Amanda’s words echoing along, _what they planned all along_ , ice so close to breaking, storm growing thicker. Gone now. Gone. The programming was deleted – _Amanda_ was deleted. They couldn’t touch Connor again.

“He recognised my struggle and offered me freedom,” Connor quietly began, “Markus… without Markus, my people would have no chance of surviving. He’s our only hope. He didn’t have to take a chance with me and I’ll forever be grateful for that.”

Hank nodded. He seemed to understand, as much as he was capable of it. As learned as the Lieutenant was, an android uprising that took place over a week was something out of even his comfort zone.

“What are we doing here, Connor?” Hank said, looking over. His face seemed hard, yet his eyes were soft, “you said you had your own task.”

“I do,” Connor confirmed, “but they’re my people. He’s my leader. I feel a sense of… obligation. I need to do my part. But he also needs to know of you.”

Hank snorted, “right.”

“He _does_ ,” Connor insisted, “you’ll be the only human left. He won’t be happy – no android will be happy about it. It’s why I need to tell him about you _before_ the first time you meet, otherwise...” he shrugged, “well. You’re not known for outstanding first impressions.”

“Hey!” Hank warned, “what did I say about the sassing?”

“You threatened me multiple times on the first day we met,” Connor said.

“You spilled my drink!” Hank said.

“You ignored orders!” Connor recalled, “and you made me ignore _my_ orders!”

This time, Hank’s laugh felt much more pointed, “Connor, I don’t know if you’ve figured this out yet, but you chose to ignore your orders and it’s because you were turning into a fucking deviant.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed. He stared out of the windscreen, over the crowd of those he’d rescued. Only a few had taken notice of the strange, human car but that panic would grow soon if he stayed for much longer.

“You should go sort out your personal affects at the station,” Connor said, “but keep the access card. We might need it.”

“For what?” Hank asked, with an incredulous expression.

“My own task,” Connor said, opening the door and sliding out. He stared down at Hank, considering, and continued on, “if you’re staying, you might as well help.”

Hank said something that was likely rude, but Connor’s attention drifted away. A voice, not his own, entered his mind; calm and caring, with a wisdom he couldn’t comprehend.

**Connor,** said Markus, **I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.**

News had spread fast, then.

_I had things I needed to do,_ replied Connor, _we need to speak_.

**We’re located at the centre of the camp, where we made our barricade. Find us there.**

And then he was gone. Connor’s mind was clear once more, which was a relief greater than what it should’ve been.

And Hank was staring at him, mouth slightly agape, “you okay, kid? Your light went yellow and you started blinking like mad.”

“I was talking to Markus,” Connor said, “I need to go.”

Hank nodded, leaning back inside the car, “I’ll pick you up at seven, alright?”

Concern for Connor’s well-being. He’d already walked several miles today, with no sign of tiring – true, his physical body had its limits but they were far beyond what he’d done today.

Hank’s concern was because he was _human_ and because Connor was someone he cared _for_.

“Got it,” Connor said, shutting the door. He met Hank’s gaze once more through the window, then set off – the engine rumbled to life a few moments later and when Connor glanced back, Hank gave a sarcastic wave.

“Ass,” Connor murmured.

Moving through the crowd was easy enough; the androids parted into two groups as Connor neared them, silent thanks and whispers filtering through his mind. Strange. They were viewing him as some sort of saviour. Why?

_Possibilities:_

_Assisting Markus._

_Releasing them from CyberLife_.

Oh.

It took him a while to see the obvious, sometimes.

Differing models stared as Connor passed, too many to individually identify. A swarm of thoughts pressed through the network; so many _minds_ , so close and so unified.

Alive.

His people were young, naive and scared. Children taking their first step into the sunlight. They viewed Connor as more than he was simply because he was decent. Time spend being aware and awake would teach them of the harshness of being alive.

But… they were alive.

And humanity couldn’t take that away.

The barricade rose up in the distance, torn and sprayed with blood – blue, like his own, reached up in high arcs. Snow faintly dusted everything, though the flag of the movement – a fist reaching up through a closed triangle – stood strong.

It filled Connor with something he knew to be hope.

Markus was inside, surrounded by the inner circle: the PJ500, Josh, the WR400, North, and the PL600 that Connor found hard to look at. This one was called Simon, he was kind and always stood closest to Markus, but he was the twin of Daniel and the bitterness had yet to leave Connor.

“Connor!” Markus greeted, with a smile, “it’s good to see you again.”

Connor nodded along. For a man with the weight of an entire species on his back, Markus seemed… weirdly happy. Were his processors working at optimal capacity?

“We were hoping you’d return,” North said, decidedly less happy which wasn’t weird whatsoever, “you left quite suddenly.”

Aware of the questioning gazes on him, Connor refused to fidget, “I went to see a friend.”

Markus’ eye twitched, “a friend? You mean, a human?”

“I...” Connor didn’t know where to begin. Everything was so jumbled up in his head, “it’s complicated, Markus. Could we… talk?”

“Of course,” Markus nodded, quickly meeting Simon’s eyes – their hands brushed, skin rushing back to reveal metal beneath and Connor had to look away. He was not expecting that. He didn’t know his people could _do_ that.

He looked straight at Josh, who smiled in shared knowledge. Josh was nice, Connor thought.

“This way,” Markus said, taking Connor by the shoulder and leading him away from the others, “you look troubled.”

“I am,” Connor admitted, for the first time. It was different, talking to Markus instead of Hank; with the Lieutenant, Connor felt as though he didn’t want the old man to worry. Markus felt approachable in a way Connor didn’t know he needed.

“You saved our lives, Connor,” Markus began, “you know that we’re here for you. I trust you.”

_You shouldn’t_.

Connor’s voice, yet contained within his own mind. He hadn’t really meant to… to think anything, yet it came out regardless.

“I was working with a Police Lieutenant,” Connor said, “he’s called Hank – Hank Anderson. He… he’s the one I went to see.”

“So, you have a human for a-”

“He’s refusing to leave with the other humans,” Connor very quickly forced out.

Markus stopped walking.

“He – he wants to stay, for – for me,” this was _horrible_ , “he’s offered his spare bedroom up for me. He got fired covering me and he’s… he was there at the Tower. If it hadn’t been for him, I never would’ve completed my mission.”

Despite his explanation, Markus was continuing to stare. It made Connor panic.

“He’s a good man. The best I know – he’s not like other humans. He believes that we deserve freedom. That we’re alive,” Connor hesitated, “I know the others won’t like it but… _I_ don’t want him to go. He’s the only friend I have. He knew that I was alive before I did – that I felt before I realised what _feeling_ was. Hank was the one who made me the man I am now.”

There. The truth. Awful to say but good once it was out. An even bigger relief was that Hank wasn’t around to hear it.

“Connor,” Markus slowly began, “I understand. I _really_ do.”

That stumped Connor.

“Back before I awoke, I… was basically a deviant already,” Markus said, “I cared for an old man – he was called Carl. A painter. At first, he thought I was nothing but over time… over time, he grew to love me as his own son. He told me that, though our blood is a different colour, there is a part of him inside of me. And he’s right. He _is_ my father and I know that to be true.

“So,” Markus clapped a hand on Connor’s shoulder, this time friendlier than he had ever been before, “I empathise with you entirely. Carl is refusing to leave, too.”

Oh.

Oh no.

“I wasn’t-” Connor quickly tried to say, “I wasn’t saying that Hank – that Lieutenant Anderson is my – I mean, we’ve only known each other for a few days, that isn’t a long enough period of time to form a-”

“ _Connor_ ,” Markus intoned his name and there was some deep, instinctive response in Connor that made him clam up, “tell Hank he can stay. I’ll talk with the others, make sure he’s left alone. We protect our loved ones.”

“Thank you,” Connor tiredly said. No use protesting. Markus thought he was in the right. He wasn’t. He definitely wasn’t.

Markus stared at him for a moment. The green and blue irises seemed… inquiring. Like he knew there was more Connor wanted to say.

“There’s something else,” he eventually gave up, because Markus was the one who granted, Connor his freedom and there was literally no use in denying him, “about CyberLife.”

The easy-going nature of Markus disappeared in a flash. Gone was the man and the man who led their people to freedom.

“What about them?” he asked, tone darker than before.

“There are things… things I don’t understand. About my own creation, about deviancy, about _you_...” Connor released a sigh, dragging it out so that his breath misted in the afternoon air, “I don’t trust them. They’ve released no official statement over their creations being alive. Neither have the Chinese or Russian android manufacturers. My gut says something is wrong.”

“I agree,” Markus said, “we’ve gotten no word from them. Thousands of our people marched from their Tower and they don’t do anything to stop us. What did you see inside there?”

“Guards tried escorting me to the old labs,” Connor said, “but I killed them and escaped. There was no other resistance… except for another RK800. I disabled it but… it was just a machine but it _felt_. I could see it in its eyes when it died. And there’s more – more I can’t explain just yet. But I want to investigate them. Officially.”

Markus’ brows rose up, “that’s why you don’t want to stay with us.”

“I wouldn’t do well here. But with Hank… I have a chance at solving this case. He’s my partner, I can only do this with him. I’ll report back to you on everything I find but...” Connor met Markus’ gaze one last time, “I have to do this.”

“I understand,” Markus said.

Connor believed him.

“There’s a part of you still lost, Connor,” Markus continued on, “and I hope you find it.”

**Author's Note:**

> y'all wanted a continuation and i actually have ideas for a real plot, so...
> 
> review bitches. and go get a drink.


End file.
